Resist me if you can
by beerchips
Summary: Brittana story with G!P britt, teacher Santana and student Brittany.
1. Chapter 1

**AN always wanted to write something about teacher/student relationships so that's what this is going to be. **

**I know it's short but this is just to get things started.**

**And also, don't hate me I'll update the second story tomorrow.**

* * *

The screeching sound of the bell signaling for all high-schoolers the beginning of the first period can be heard through the entire territory of McKinley High. Most of the students are already in their classrooms, some of the lazy ones just barely making inside before their teacher. However, one Brittany S. Pierce, clearly unfazed by the sound, continues half-laying on the worn out couch under the bleachers, finishing her first cigarette of the day. The little pieces of sky visible through the gaps are almost as blue as her eyes and the smoke that rises from her lips seem like they're merging with the small clouds that wind keeps steering to the south. The blonde girl seems so entranced in them it's possible she didn't even hear the bell.

After she looks down on her watch and with an eye-roll notes she's, yet again, late, she pushes up from the couch with a grunt and with one last and longest drag she throws the butt on the ground, making a good show of mashing it with the heel of her black combat boots. Once she's sure that all that remains are flattened out fibers, she grabs her also black backpack and starts walking in the direction of the entrance.

"Ms. Pierce, you're late."

Even though she didn't expect to hear the Indian accent in her Lit class, she doesn't pay much attention to it.

"Yeah, I know. I have a watch." She shrugs nonchalantly, plopping down in her place in the back of the classroom.

"Well, why are you late then?"

"Why does it matter, I'm here, aren't I?"

"This is already third time this week, and it's only Wednesday!" Principal sounds like he's starting to get irritated.

"God, Figgins, it's not like I can turn back time. Either get over it or give me detention." Brittany huffs in annoyance.

"That is no way to speak to the Principal, Ms. Pierce! You're going to stay after school for two weeks and help Ms. Lopez sort out the mess Mr. Harris left when he ran off to marry a woman with questionable reputation."

"Whoa there, _Principal_ Figgins, don't tell me you have something against prostitutes?! Because I can tell you, the ones who know how to…"

Half of the class erupts in "hell yeahs" and "right ons", the other half just frowns at her. Not like she cares about that. She does high-five Puckerman though. But that's just to piss off Figgins even more.

"Silence, children! Silence! That's it, Ms. Pierce! You're coming with me!" Even though his ethnicity doesn't allow him to blush, Brittany's sure the principal's face is about to start leaking blood.

The blonde gets up without much protest; she knows she has pushed him too far this time. Figgins is not that bad of a headmaster, but it's just too easy to push his buttons.

She's already half-way through the room when she remembers something, "Who's Ms. Lopez, by…?"

The rest of her words die on her lips, because for the first time since she walked into the classroom her eyes shift from the principal and fall on the young woman standing by the window, staring at her with the expression of pure shock.

Before she has time to observe the woman any further she's led out of the room, straight to the principal's office. Once they walk into the room, Brittany drops down on the couch. Figgins rounds the table and sits down, lacing his fingers together.

"Brittany," He says finally, after five minutes of silence, "I know past few months have been rough on you, but you can't go on like this. You're constantly late, your grades have fallen. You're causing riots in classes. Not to mention the disrespectful behavior. Today I was going to introduce you and your friends to a new substitute teacher. It's her first day here and now she probably thinks this is the worst school in the state. William McKinley was one of the brightest presidents of our country! Our school has to honor his name, not make him turn in his grave with shame!"

Brittany rolls her clear blue eyes (the man's such a drama queen) and waits patiently to find out just what kind of punishment she's earned herself this time. But, as it turns out, Figgins has decided to stick with the original detention. Though she really can't understand how she can help this new teacher sort out the shit the old one has left. She doesn't even know what is this shit that needs to be sorted, and she definitely can't understand why of all people she has to help. She's never even been good in literature. Half an hour later the blonde is finally out of the room with a headache coming on and once again starts in the direction of the bleachers. After those thirty minutes with Figgins she just _has_ to have a smoke.

* * *

When Santana Lopez told her mother she had landed a job as a substitute in McKinley high the first thing that came out of the woman's mouth was: "Santana, mija, you're a beautiful girl. High school is a dangerous place bursting with teenage hormones (as if Santana didn't know this herself). You're not much older than them. Promise me you'll be careful and won't get involved in anything!"

Santana promised not giving it a second thought. She had been through enough drama in her own high school days and new better to be involved in that dark shit again. She told her mother she had nothing to worry about, but today, when she stepped out of her car, she saw a black mustang pull up beside her and the most gorgeous girl step out with an unlit cigarette between her lips. Without even glancing around, the girl locked the car and avoiding the school entrance, went in the direction of the stadium.

And later when the same girl is led out from her classroom it flashes in her mind that maybe keeping the promise she had given to her mother won't be as easy as she has originally thought.

* * *

**so, anyone (other than me) interested?**


	2. Chapter 2

By the time the last period is over, Santana has already forgotten the little incident she'd witnessed in the morning. But when the last student is out of the classroom and finally she has some time to sit down and relax, it all comes back to her. She remembers the way the blonde girl had been unbelievably calm and nonchalant in her behavior. High school students can be really rude, she knows that. Hell, she's been one of those students not that long ago, but it's the way the girl had been so cool about it that confused Santana the most. Two weeks of two hour long detention is not a joking matter to her and the blonde hadn't even bat an eyelash. It was like she didn't even care! And just what kind of teenager wants to spend additional time at school? What she remembers next makes her frown. She's the one the blonde's going to spend her detention with. The thought of spending that much time with her brings an uneasy feeling in her stomach. She knows if the blonde's going to repeat the morning act on her she's going to snap and she really doesn't want to snap on her first day. Then there's always the possibility of Snixx coming out to show, which is never pretty and that's just unacceptable in her work place. She actually wants to keep this job.

"Ms. Lopez," Principal Figginses' voice sounds almost too cheerful to be true. Just like the smile he has plastered on his face as he enters the classroom.

"Mr. Figgins," Santana goes to stand up.

"Oh, please don't bother on my account," Figgins waves his hand immediately, sounding almost elated. The fact that the young woman was even willing to stand up seems like a huge deal to him.

_Just what kind of people go to this place?! _Santana wonders to herself. But then she remembers seeing a woman in red track suit passing through the hallway like a tornado and she's not sure she wants to know.

"How was your first day?" He inquires politely, but something about him tells the young teacher that that's not what the man wants to discuss.

"Better that I expected." Still she answers truthfully.

"The children didn't give you too much trouble?" He asks, his voice laced with worry.

"Nothing I can't handle." She reassures him with a smile.

"Good, good." The man suddenly seems nervous. "I actually wanted to talk about Brittany before she got here. The girl from the first period." He adds when confusion passes over the young woman's face.

"Oh, what about her?" _I was right_.

"I understand how she may have seemed a little inconsiderate..."

_Wow is that an understatement!_

"...but she's not a bad kid. She's going through a rough time now."

"Did something happen to her?"

Mr. Figgins glances around as if to make sure they are alone and moves closer to Santana.

"I'm not sure this is my place to talk," he's even more nervous now, and the more nervous he gets the more Santana wants to know about the girl.

"Ms. Pierce lost her father recently." He whispers at last.

_Oh_, Santana thinks not expecting this at all, but feeling very sorry for her nonetheless.

"Yes, but that's not all-"

Before he has time to finish Brittany strolls into the room, dropping her backpack by the door.

"Here I am, Mr. Principal Figgins. I'm not late again, am I?"

"No you're not." The man exhales.

"Cool," she breathes. Her eyes fall on the woman sitting by the table. "Hey, you must be Ms. Lopez. We didn't get the chance to meet this morning. Brittany S. Pierce at your service." she walks up to her, sticking out her hand with a smile.

Santana stares at her for a second. The girl sure is confident. Almost to the point of annoying, but annoyed is not what Santana becomes. She's not sure she wants explore that point yet. Or ever. Preferably never ever.

"Brittany! I'm going to be forced to call your mother." The principal tries to threaten her, but the girl seems unfazed.

"Oh no! Not my sweet dear ol' mother!" The blonde whines sarcastically, "you think she's gonna pick up this time?"

Figgins opens his mouth, but obviously having nothing to say, closes again.

Brittany shakes her head, "Get over it already, Fig. She doesn't care."

The man doesn't know what to say to that, because Brittany's right. No matter how many times he's tried to contact her, the woman always brushed him off saying she was busy. And that was on the rare occasions on which she actually answered the phone. So he just settles on, "I'm not your Fig."

"Sorry," Brittany rolls her cat-like eyes walking over to the table in the first row and leans against it.

"All right," the principal claps once, "as I said this morning, Mr. Harris has run off and left all the essays, papers and, actually I think everything, back at his place. It appears that he hasn't graded anything since the beginning of the school year. And students do need those grades. I'm very sorry, Ms. Lopez, but since you're taking over his classes, you need to retrieve those things. Brittany's going to accompany you to his house."

What goes through Santana's mind is that this Mr. Harris must have been a horrible teacher. And that she's going to have loads of essays to grade. She sighs internally and nods. Brittany, on the other hand, just shrugs.

"Very well," Figgins looks pleased, "this is his address. And here are the keys. Good luck, ladies." He hands the keys he got from Sue Sylvester to Santana.

"How did you get his keys?" Brittany wonders aloud before Santana can. The young teacher looks expectantly at the suddenly uncomfortable-looking man.

He stays silent for a minute, then turns around without a sound and marches out f the room.

"That was...strange." Santana stares after him in confusion.

"Not really," Brittany shrugs, "I bet he got those from Sue."

"Who's Sue?"

"Not someone who has the authority to hand out keys to other peoples houses." With that the blonde girl goes to pick up her backpack and walks out.

Grabbing her coat and bag, Santana hurries after the blonde girl only to catch up with her at the parking lot. After a small argument over whose car to take, which, of course, Santana wins (she is the teacher after all. There shouldn't have been any argument to begin with), they are on their way.

* * *

Santana turns the key carefully and when the telltale click is heard, pushes the door open. _I can't believe I'm doing this._

"Is it still breaking and entering if you have a key?" Brittany wonders behind her as if reading her thoughts. "I mean, we're not breaking anything, right?"

"I'm afraid that doesn't count."

The door opens without a hitch revealing Mr. Harrises' livingroom. The young teacher and her student step inside, one uneasily, the other casually. Both set of eyes roam over the furniture and walls.

"Where do we start?"

"I have no idea."

Brittany shrugs in response and wanders off, saying she always wanted to see how the teachers live.

Following her example, Santana walks further into the house. As she goes through different rooms, she notices two things: 1. The papers are scattered all over the house; and 2. Whoever lived in this house has left in a hurry. It appears that Brittany has come to the same conclusion.

"Wow, when Figgins said he took off, he ment it literally." The teenager's eyebrows rise in astonishment. She remembers Mr. Gerald Harris, a middle-aged man with kind eyes and child-like laugh. He had been her favorite teacher for the last three years after all. He had always been attentive to every single student, always trying to include everyone in the lessons so no one would feel left out. Always listened to what the student had to say, even if they were wrong. He had been a good teacher, until about the beginning of October. That's when he stopped paying attention in classes. He gave students endless quizzes and essays to write and while they were at it, he continued gazing out of the window, releasing a sigh every now and then. That's when Brittany knew he was in a deep shit also known as love. And now he even disappeared without a trace to prove it.

"Love is strange." Brittany says at last, shaking her head as if to break out of her thoughts. The box she has found in the kitchen serves as a great container for the papers she and Santana are collecting all through the house.

"Most people think it's amazing." _Or at least most teenagers,_ Santana thinks to herself, as she places another stack of quizzes in the box.

"I think, only people who haven't been in love think like that."

The dark-haired woman pauses and looks at the girl curiously, waiting for her to add something. She's not sure why, but she wants to know what the student is thinking.

"I think...love is a deep longing for another person that can never be fulfilled. No matter how close you are to them, you can never be close enough. Then there's fear they don't love you enough. They don't want you enough. That they are going to leave you eventually. I don't know. Love seems kind of a terrible thing if you think about it."

Brittany doesn't know why she's telling all this to a stranger, who on top of that is her teacher, but she has a feeling she can say whatever she wants and this woman will listen. Besides, it's not like she has a lot of opportunities to talk about these kind of things since her father decided to have a heart attack right in front of her and left her alone. And even though she enjoys the perks of being alone most of the time, she's still a human, craving to be heard and understood.

"Have you been in love?" Santana asks at last.

"No...but this is what I think when I think about love."

When the woman doesn't say anything, Brittany looks at her, "You think I'm wrong?"

"I...I think every person loves differently."

"Does that mean I'm right and wrong at the same time?" Brittany asks after a minute with a smile.

"More or less, yes." Santana grins back.

The teenager continues smiling at her, "I'm sorry I missed your first class."

"That's quite all right. You do have another one tomorrow."

* * *

When Santana Lopez landed a job as a substitute teacher at McKinley High and promised her mother she'd stay out of trouble, she didn't know she would meet Brittany S. Pierce and that her life would change.


End file.
